


Kryptonite

by lemonsorbae



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bottom Dean, Consensual bondage, Fluff, Honeymoon, Light Bondage, M/M, Roleplay, Smut, Super Hero roleplay, Wedding Night, supernatural universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-02
Updated: 2014-06-02
Packaged: 2018-02-03 02:13:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1727342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lemonsorbae/pseuds/lemonsorbae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the prompt: It’s Dean and Castiel’s wedding night. Dean convinces Cas that it’s tradition to role play as superheroes on your honeymoon. </p><p>For <a href="http://www.texting-and-murdering.tumblr.com/">texting-and-murdering</a>, one of three winners of the fic giveaway I hosted on <a href="http://www.jimmynovakisaved.tumblr.com/">tumblr</a>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kryptonite

Dean’s not sure if Castiel believes him or not, probably  _not_  if the squinty eyed, tilt-y head reaction he got when he first mentioned it is anything to go by, but here they are regardless, in their honeymoon suite, their first official night as Mr. and Mr. Winchester, dressed as Clark Kent and Bruce Wayne.

Dean had tried for Batman and Superman, but Castiel had taken one look at the tight blue and red costume and refused. The heroes’ alter egos were Dean’s next best bet.

"Are you sure about this, Dean?" Castiel asks as he adjusts the black framed glasses he’s sporting, and yeah, the look is definitely working for him. "I’ve never heard of this tradition before."

"I’m positive, Cas, everyone role plays on their wedding nights. C’mon, you look great."

Castiel sighs heavily and straightens the red and black stripped tie Dean had picked out for him. “Alright,” he finally concedes. He runs his fingers gently over the soft fabric of the charcoal waistcoat he’d put on just several minutes ago and Dean can’t help but think Castiel might even look more attractive in the role play get up than he did at their actual wedding. Might being the key word.

Dean smiles and pecks his husband on the lips and then walks out of the hotel room, letting the door close behind him. He waits a few seconds in the hall and then knocks on the door.

When Castiel opens the door, something has changed in his eyes and the way in which he holds himself and Dean is instantly turned on that Castiel is taking this so seriously even if he  _doesn’t_  believe Dean.

"Hello, Mr. Wayne," Castiel says with a light air in his tone, much like the one Clark Kent uses, "thank you for meeting with me on such short notice." Castiel opens the door wide enough to permit Dean inside and then closes it behind them both with a soft click.

"I had to move some things around to get away," Dean replies, "but you said it was important so here I am."

"I can assure you I will make our meeting worth your time."

"And how do you intend to do that?" Dean asks. Despite the fact that he’s supposed to be Bruce Wayne and not Batman he’s pitched his voice low, his words coming out with a gravelly edge, and for a moment Castiel stops and stares at him, his eyes darting to Dean’s lips before reverting back to his eyes and remaining there. Dean offers him a little smirk. Now the fucker knows what it’s like to have to listen to a sex voice all the damn time.

After a beat Castiel turns and goes to the mini bar in their hotel room. “Would you like a drink, Bruce?” Castiel asks.

"Are you trying to distract me?" Dean asks, trailing behind Castiel slowly, studying the man’s backside as he bends to open their mini fridge. "You know I’m a busy man, Kent, I don’t have time for frivolity."

Castiel pauses and turns to face Dean. “Yet here you are, Mr. Wayne.” He goes to turn back, but Dean reaches out a hand, catching Castiel’s arm in his grasp and holding him in place. He studies Castiel’s face, the soft curl of hair that has, while appropriately, unintentionally fallen across Cas’ forehead, and his bright blue eyes that pop against the black frames of the glasses perched on his nose. The man is divertingly beautiful and suddenly Dean is over the game. He just wants Cas.

Dean grabs Castiel by the silk tie around his neck and yanks him in for a kiss. The other man’s mouth is hot against his own, opening up to him immediately and Dean chuckles as the frames of Castiel’s glasses go lopsided on his face, crushing against the bridge of Dean’s nose.

"Dean," Castiel pants out, "Dean, we still have some lines."

"Forget the lines, Cas, I overestimated my willpower," Dean mutters and then he’s sealing his mouth back over Castiel’s and wrapping an arm around his husband’s waist.

They breathe into each other’s mouths, warm tongues sliding over one another, teeth clacking together when the kiss is deepened, and Castiel nudges Dean backwards towards the bed. When the backs of his knees hit against the mattress, Dean goes down, his hand still wrapped around Castiel’s tie, pulling Cas down with him.

"Cas," Dean breathes in-between kisses as he begins to work Castiel’s tie out of its knot.

Castiel pulls away ever so slightly, “It’s Clark,” he corrects and then he’s surging forward and capturing Dean’s lips with his own.

Dean moans into the kiss.

They make their way to the center of the bed, Dean tugging at Castiel’s clothes, Castiel pushing at Dean’s shoulders and nipping along his jaw line, and by the time Dean feels the soft mound of pillows underneath his back, he’s finally pulling Castiel’s tie off and moving his hands to the buttons on Castiel’s waistcoat.

Castiel’s long, slender fingers come to rest over Dean’s, stilling his attempts to get Castiel out of his clothes. “Bruce, I asked you here tonight because I have something to show you.” He rolls off of Dean and climbs off the bed, batting Dean’s hands away as he goes.

Dean lets himself fall into the pillows with a frustrated groan.

"Feel free to make yourself comfortable, Mr. Wayne, I will return shortly," Castiel requests and then he’s disappearing around the corner leaving Dean, and Dean’s aching erection, alone.

Begrudgingly Dean strips down to nothing, discarding his suit and underwear over the side of the bed. The suit will most likely be wrinkled by the time Dean cares to pick it up, but it’s Sam’s turn to handle the dry cleaning so it remains in a heap on the floor.

Moments later Dean hears the bathroom door creak open and he looks over to find Castiel sauntering into the room in nothing but a pair of Superman briefs and a flimsy red cape.

Dean temporarily forgets how to breathe as he studies his husband with his mouth hanging agape. Castiel is all long, lean lines, an air of confidence in his stance and if it weren’t for the slight flush in his cheeks, Dean would never know the guy may feel a little nervous.

"I see you made yourself comfortable," Castiel states, his eyes scanning Dean’s naked form, lingering hungrily for a few long seconds on the thick, heavy arousal between Dean’s legs.

Dean simply nods, his eyes still wide and unblinking.

Castiel approaches him then, snatching the bottle of lube Dean had put out on the nightstand and pushing Dean back into the pillows, a satisfied smirk on his face.

"Do you know what the cape is for?" Castiel asks against Dean’s lips. He trails his mouth down to kiss along Dean’s jaw and down the column of his throat, watching as Dean swallows hard before answering.

"Aerodynamics?" Dean asks, unable to keep a low whimper from escaping his lips as Castiel bites at his collarbone.

Castiel sits up and shakes his head. Dean watches as Castiel’s fingers work at the tie on the cape before he’s sliding it around and off his shoulders and smoothing it into one long strip of fabric. He eyes Dean’s hands where they rest on the bed and suddenly, Dean understands. He lifts his arms until his hands are brushing against the headboard and then Castiel is giving him a curt nod of appreciation and leaning over him to tie Dean’s hands to the headboard with the cape.

Castiel’s chest is right in his face, the smooth expanse of skin close enough to kiss, so Dean does just that, pursing his lips until they brush against his husband’s sternum. Castiel smiles down at him fondly, his eyes full of warmth.

Once Dean is secured to the head board Castiel runs his fingers along Dean’s arms and ribs, pressing kisses into Dean’s skin, and nipping at the soft flesh as Dean’s stomach flutters in anticipation.

Popping open the bottle of lube Castiel squirts a generous amount onto his fingers and then moves to bite his way up the inside of one of Dean’s thighs and down the other stopping briefly to look up at Dean through his lashes.

"I love you," Castiel mutters.

"I love you too, baby," Dean returns.

Castiel drops a soft kiss to the tip of Dean’s cock, his tongue darting out to lap up the bead of pre-come that’s appeared there, and then he’s circling a finger around Dean’s entrance and pushing it inside. Dean relaxes against the intrusion and lets Castiel work him open with quick, nimble fingers.

Dean writhes underneath Cas’ touch, gasping each time Castiel’s fingers brush along his prostate, his legs twitching around Castiel, and when he feels as if he’s about to burst he nearly shouts.

"I’m ready," he chokes and then adds cheekily, "show me why they call you the Man of Steel."   

 Castiel pulls his fingers out of Dean and works himself out of the Superman underwear he’s still wearing, but does not remove them completely. He nudges the head of his length at where Dean is slicked open and ready for him and then he locks his heated blue gaze on Dean and pushes inside.

Within seconds, Dean is full, Castiel fully seated inside of him, and while they’ve done this a thousand times Dean still sees stars when Castiel begins to move.    

Castiel’s rhythm is steady and practiced. Dean’s tried to rush the other man before, begging Castiel to go harder or faster, but he quickly learned that Castiel’s methodic ways of war carry over into the bedroom and once he had a strategy he could not be deterred.

Some of Dean’s best orgasms have come after a lengthy, calculated pounding from the former angel of the Lord.

As Castiel works them to completion he comes to rest over Dean, his lips working at Dean’s own in tandem with his thrusts, and Dean kisses back just as eagerly.

On a particularly forceful thrust to his prostate, Dean cries out and after that Castiel seems to make it his goal to hear that noise again and again and again.

When Castiel’s hips begun to stutter, when his movements become more erratic, Dean knows the other man is close. He pulls at the bonds holding him to the headboard and grunts in frustration at how securely Castiel tied him. “Gotta touch me, Cas,” Dean states, “wanna come with you.”

Castiel drops one last kiss to Dean’s lips and then wraps a free hand around Dean’s arousal and begins stroking him in earnest, his fist sure and true around Dean’s length.

Heat is just beginning to pool in Dean’s belly, his muscles going taught, when Castiel comes inside of him, pressing his hips flush with Dean’s ass until he’s buried as deep as he can go. As Castiel shudders through his climax, his hand going tight around Dean’s cock, Dean comes all over them in hot strips that drip onto his own stomach.

Castiel looks up at him, his eyes hazy and blissed out.”Was that worth your while, Mr. Wayne?” he snarks.

Dean smiles and welcomes the kiss that comes immediately after.

When the haze clears from their brains Castiel pulls out of Dean’s heat and unties him from the bed. They clean themselves up with the cheap silk and when he’s satisfied they’re both free of spend and sweat Castiel drops it off the side of the bed and flicks off the lights before nestling against Dean’s side.

Dean wraps the other man up in wobbly arms and kisses the top of his head as Castiel wraps an arm around Dean’s waist. Castiel sighs, the warmth of his breath ghosting out along Dean’s throat and then goes still next to him.

 The room falls silent for a beat, their brains dancing in that space between sleep and wakefulness and then Castiel sighs.”Dean?” he mutters against Dean’s throat.

"Yeah, babe."

"You’ve always been my kryptonite," Castiel says.

Dean smiles into the darkness and tangles his legs with his husbands under the covers. “I love you too, Cas.”


End file.
